Chapter 36: Unexpected (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 36: Unexpected (1)
Before my regression, Baek Hyang-muk, the Alliance Leader, would often give a speech before the Murim Alliance set out on a major campaign.
He would always conclude his speech by drawing his sword to boost morale.
That was why I remembered his precious blade, Ink Immortal.
Yet here, so many swords shared the exact same form as Ink Immortal. Even the unique circular spot patterns on the blades were identical.
The swords, thrust into a giant incense burner, were suffering. Not a single one was intact; they were all covered in cracks or on the verge of shattering.
They were, quite literally, unusable.
'Why are they in so much pain?'
It was the Namcheon Iron Sword that answered my question.
'Its value defiled?'
What was the value of a sword?
At its core, it was a weapon. No matter how many flowery descriptions like "living sword" were attached to it, one could not deny it was created to effectively face and kill an enemy.
Did that mean they were suffering because they could no longer fulfill that role?
I frowned at the Lesser Conversation Sword’s suggestion. It was creepy enough just listening to them; now it wanted me to hold one?
Truthfully, if it were just an ordinary sword, I wouldn't have bothered. But the fact that these were identical to Ink Immortal, the blade of the First Sword of Wuhan—one of the Eight Great Masters—weighed on my mind.
After a moment of hesitation, I followed its advice and reached for a hilt.
Shiver!
Goosebumps erupted across my skin. The sword's scream pierced through my mind, filled with something akin to rage or deep-seated resentment.
However, the moment I gripped the sword, I knew instinctively.
'...Was this sword only just born?'
Despite the torrent of emotion, the sword's ego was incredibly weak.
'Hey. Hey!'
It wasn't listening to me at all. I couldn't tell if it couldn't hear me or was simply refusing to. Just as I was growing frustrated by the mystery of their agony, the Heavenly Secret on the back of my hand shimmered with a blue light.
Simultaneously, my vision blurred and shifted, revealing a scene.
The location was right here.
The only differences were that it was pitch black outside, and the blacksmith, who had been sprawled on the floor like a drunkard, was standing perfectly upright.
A sword's field of vision is open in all directions. Thus, I could see the person holding it.
The moment I saw his face, I couldn't hide my shock.
'Baek Hyang-muk!'
How could I ever forget that face? He was undoubtedly the Leader of the Murim Alliance, the First Sword of Wuhan, Baek Hyang-muk. I had assumed someone had commissioned imitations of Ink Immortal, but I never expected the man himself to have come here.
[I shall check it.]
The blacksmith nodded at Baek Hyang-muk’s words.
Gripping the sword, Baek Hyang-muk took a Qi Control Stance.
'Oh!'
My heart hammered against my ribs. I had just gained the opportunity to witness a martial demonstration by one of the Eight Great Masters.
At a glance from Baek Hyang-muk, the blacksmith—as if he had been waiting—covered his eyes with a black cloth.
[Whew.]
Steadying his breath, Baek Hyang-muk began his sword forms.
Watching the demonstration through the sword's eyes...
'!!!'
Chills ran down my spine. The trajectory of his swings and the flow itself were on an entirely different dimension. During the journey to Wuhan, I had watched the Namcheon Sword Guest, Ho Jong-dae, practice every single day.
Baek Hyang-muk’s swordsmanship was perfection itself—so refined that even the daily-improving Namcheon Sword Guest couldn't hope to touch it.
'So this is... the swordsmanship of the First Sword of Wuhan...'
The trajectory of the blade was shocking enough to say he had reached the pinnacle of the sword. His signature technique, the Ink Immortal Great Formation Sword, truly deserved its reputation as one of the four greatest sword techniques in the current Murim.
'Ha...'
Watching his forms made me realize something. The Life Bright Sword Technique still had room to evolve. Just as the Namcheon Sword Guest had refined and elevated his forms, there was plenty of potential to make it even stronger.
A deep sense of fervor rose within my chest.
[Good.]
A satisfied voice escaped Baek Hyang-muk’s lips as he finished the demonstration. The blacksmith, still blindfolded, spoke up.
[Is it sufficient?]
[Not yet.]
The blacksmith, who had been about to remove the cloth, stopped. He nervously licked his dry lips.
'What does he mean, "not yet"?'
I couldn't understand. The sword was excellent enough to perfectly handle his forms. What else was there to check?
Then, Baek Hyang-muk placed two fingers together in a sword-secret gesture and touched the blade above the hilt. He slowly slid his fingers down the length of the steel.
In that instant—
The sword screamed like a madman. As the blade shrieked as if its eardrums were bursting, the steel began to turn a blood-red hue.
'!?'
I couldn't comprehend what was happening. The perfectly fine blade was being dyed a vivid crimson, and the sword was in agonizing pain.
Just as the blade was half-stained—
Crr-crack!
Cracks spiderwebbed across the surface. Simultaneously, the crimson hue faded, and the sword returned to its original color.
As startling as this bizarre phenomenon was, what truly shocked me was the transformation in Baek Hyang-muk’s energy. His aura, once overflowing with righteous essence, was now saturated with killing intent. It was as if I were looking at a god of slaughter.
[Hmph!]
Thud!
As if he were a different person, Baek Hyang-muk irritably thrust the cracked sword into the ground. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. Before long, the energy that had been thick with killing intent returned to normal, as if purified.
Returning to his righteous appearance, he clicked his tongue and spoke to the blacksmith.
[Make it again.]
With those cold words, he walked out of the forge. The blacksmith removed the black cloth and stared at the cracked sword with a bitter expression.
With that, the vision blurred and I returned to reality.
'...It must have been painful.'
I thought I understood why the sword had been suffering. I didn't know the nature of that murderous energy Baek Hyang-muk had displayed, but it had rendered the sword beyond repair. To be reduced to scrap the moment it was born—it was only natural it would be in agony.
'Don't suffer anymore. You did nothing wrong.'
I spoke to it soothingly. The sword stopped its screaming. Then, it spoke to me in a voice like a child's.
Crr-crack!
No sooner had it spoken than cracks covered the entire blade, and the steel crumbled into dust, spilling onto the floor. All that remained was the hilt.
I didn't know either—why the sword had spontaneously crumbled into powder. As I stood there wondering, the sword forms Baek Hyang-muk had performed began to etch themselves into my mind like a vivid memory.
It was the same phenomenon that occurred when the Heavenly Secret was fully activated. While I couldn't know the exact internal energy circulation paths for the forms, I felt I knew the trajectories of the techniques perfectly.
'Ah...'
As the forms were engraved in my mind, I felt a tingling sensation. It felt as though the truth was just within my reach. I couldn't grasp it with just this one experience.
My gaze naturally drifted toward the other Ink Immortal replicas thrust into the incense burner.
'...Should I look one more time?'
If my guess was correct, the other swords had likely gone through the same process. If so, could I witness the Ink Immortal Great Formation Sword again?
[Woon-hwi. Look behind you.]
'Behind me?'
At the Namcheon Iron Sword’s warning, I turned my head. There, I saw the blacksmith staring at me with wide, piercing eyes. His face was still flushed, as if the alcohol hadn't fully worn off.
'Oh no.'
I must have been too focused. I hadn't even noticed the owner of the forge waking up. Thinking I had been incredibly rude, I prepared to offer a fist-and-palm salute and apologize.
But the blacksmith rushed toward me.
"Are you a martial artist? No, you must be, right?"
'Huh?'
His speech was rambling, as if he were still half-drunk.
"I am. However..."
Before I could finish, the blacksmith crouched down and touched the iron dust on the floor. It was fine powder, as if it had been ground down. A deep furrow appeared between the blacksmith's brows.
At this rate, it would look like I had broken the sword on purpose.
"I didn't mean to break it, it's just—"
The blacksmith cut me off as he handled the dust.
"Could you... break the other swords in the incense burner as well?"
"Pardon?"
I was momentarily stunned by the unexpected request. I had been bracing for him to get angry at me for breaking his sword after trespassing, so I was at a loss.
"I'll pay you for it."
He was even offering to pay. I couldn't understand why. If he wanted them broken so badly, couldn't he have disposed of them himself?
Perhaps my confusion showed on my face, because the blacksmith said, "I poured my soul into making these swords. But they've become blades that can no longer be used. Do you think it's easy for me to break my own children with my own hands?"
Ah...
Now I understood why he had thrust the swords into the incense burner. It was a way of mourning the swords he had made with his soul, only for them to be broken and discarded so absurdly.
"Can you do it? Or not? Just tell me that."
I had no reason to refuse. I had wanted to examine the swords with the Heavenly Secret anyway. If the owner was giving me permission, it was a great deal.
"I understand. But these swords, by any chance..."
"I'm sorry. Unless you're the client, I refuse to answer any questions regarding the swords."
The blacksmith shut me down before I could even ask. I was curious why the Leader of the Murim Alliance was having imitations of Ink Immortal made, but seeing how adamant he was, it would be difficult to press further.
The blacksmith pointed to the scabbard at my waist.
"It seems you handle a sword as well. Would you accept a sword tuning as payment? As you can see, my circumstances aren't exactly flush with cash."
This was an unexpected stroke of luck. I had been planning to ask him to maintain the Namcheon Iron Sword anyway. I drew the blade from its sheath.
Shring!
The blacksmith's face contorted the moment he saw it. I thought it was because of the rust, but he pointed out something else.
"The scabbard looks a bit large for the sword inside. Is that alright?"
As expected of a master, he noticed immediately.
"It's fine. More importantly, please look at this."
I handed him the Namcheon Iron Sword. The blacksmith took it and examined the rusted surface. I wondered if he could truly handle Cold Iron.
"There's Cold Iron mixed in here."
Contrary to my worries, the blacksmith realized it was a Cold Iron alloy just by looking at the rusted sections. When I had taken it to other forges, they hadn't recognized it at all. He truly was the man who would later be called a master craftsman.
"To think such a masterpiece would end up in this state. Did you leave this sword in a damp place for over ten years?"
The blacksmith scolded me. It had been left in a cave for over fifteen years, so he wasn't wrong.
"...There were circumstances. Can you remove the rust?"
"It's not difficult. However, since it's mixed with Cold Iron, the work will be a bit tricky. It'll take at least five to six days."
That was more than enough time. I had ten days left, and if I spent five days examining the cracked Ink Immortals with the Heavenly Secret, wouldn't that be a chance for me to break through my own limits?
After leaving the Namcheon Iron Sword with the blacksmith, I headed toward the inn. I wanted to examine the other swords immediately, but since I had told Sama Yeong and Jo Seong-won I’d be back soon, I needed to let them know.
I was glad things were working out, but one thing weighed on my mind.
The blade turning red under Baek Hyang-muk’s murderous energy... No matter how I looked at it, that didn't fit the First Sword of Wuhan, a man who pursued the Orthodox path. In fact, it felt closer to the Unorthodox or even the Demonic path.
'What could it be?'
I was pondering this as I left the blacksmith street when someone blocked my path in the crowd. It was a youth of somewhat short and slight stature, wearing a bamboo hat and black robes.
He wasn't carrying a weapon and I didn't sense any particular aura, so I assumed he was just caught in the crowd and tried to pass him. But then, the youth reached out to grab my wrist.
'What?'
I shifted slightly to avoid him. However, the youth’s hand followed my movement with uncanny precision, still trying to catch me. It was such a sophisticated Golden Snake Hand technique that it seemed impossible to block without using my own hands.
In the end, I had to act.
Clash!
Our hands entangled, and in an instant, we exchanged two or three moves. As our hands collided, a glint of surprise appeared in the youth's eyes.
I was equally surprised. This youth's internal power was far beyond what I had imagined; he was actually trying to suppress me.
Snap!
The youth shifted from trying to grab my wrist to seizing my palm. Then, he pulled me toward him with great force. Realizing I couldn't hold back, I surged my internal power to its full ten stars.
However—
'What?'
Scrape!
My feet dragged across the ground as the youth in the bamboo hat forced me into a corner of an alleyway. It was unbelievable power. Judging by the visible part of his face, he looked to be around my age, yet I never dreamed he would possess such internal energy.
As I stood there in shock, a voice I never expected came from the youth.
"You. You're alive?"
To my astonishment, that voice belonged to—
'Baek Hye-hyang!'
She was one of the two candidates for the position of Blood Cult Leader, alongside Baek Ryeon-ha.